Ghost of Silence
by scarredNburned
Summary: Forgive me dear, Silence. As truth comes to unfold. It is not as pretty as a flower. Nor as attractive as a summers evening. For the things that can't be told. Believe that my next words hold true to you. Such beauty is too cold.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hey guys! This is my try on a more serious fic, hope it work out….I hope it peeks your interest and enjoy it as much as I did while reading a lot of the fics here….uhm pls feel free to read and review…;p

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the King Arthur DVD I am now watching…sigh….shame…

Chapter I

-

Such beauty is too cold.  
How such a fair creature can be so cruel as this.  
What gives loveliness the right to harm our hearts?  
To show us dreams to reach for, yet let us miss?

-

She was floating. Her mind suspended in the air cut off from reality. Peace, that had always evaded her, now opening its arms and embracing her, keeping her safe. If she could just stay there, warm and protected, fear ebbing away from her like snake skin. She knew though that time would find her soon enough, claiming her and thrusting her back to where her body was. At this thought she felt peace slowly depart from her and pain taking over, overwhelming her that she had drawn blood by biting her lips so hard to stop herself from crying out.

Her senses hazily picking up the silent whimpers outside the metal door. The boy was now awake, still alive and with that whimper, still as fearful. She blinked her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Metal chains held her suspended from the floor dislocating one of her shoulders. She had been in this position since forever she thinks. Blood from her legs travel to her toes only to drop to the floor, you can almost hear it. _Drip…Drip…Drip_…

.She tried not to move, hoping it would stop the pain that was consuming her body. Even breathing made her ache. She took a moment to take in all of her injuries. Judging by their severity she deduced that the monks got frustrated again. Which was alike everyday, they would torture her, not get any reaction, any cry, even her eyes were blank and it frustrated them so much that they would wind themselves up just trying to hit her more, hit her harder, still coming to the same conclusion, nothing.

She could hardly recall a day when her body was not in pain; her memories now were like butterflies only fluttering by but never staying to rest much like her consciousness. She never slept fully now, always half aware of her surroundings, the boy and the woman, outside her cell both clinging to their life as well. She remembered them being brought in. She remembered all of those they've brought in. Their cries have never left her until they draw their last breath. It was just the two of them left now. The boy, who thankfully was obedient enough that they did not see the need to torture him as much as his parent were, was now calling out.

"Lady…Lady…" the boy's voice was picking up.

She opened her mouth but only nothingness came out of it. She wanted to silence him; the boy was putting himself in danger by making a ruckus. She still remembered when he was punished for doing the same thing when his parents had crossed the veil. She even heard his bones cracked amidst all the yelling. It was but a week ago. She was sure he was still doing poorly with the injury he sustained and now if the monks were to hear him…he may not be as lucky as to survive it. Thankfully a voice of reason came to pass.

"Hush….Lucan, I'm sure she is well, they left the cell unpleased which means she could very well be alive still." There was hope in her statement yet a tinge of worry still tainted it. She remembered her; the women came in not but 3 moons ago, she thinks, and hearing the ferocity in her voice as she fought with the guards, she was sure the woman was a woad warrior. The standing unbeknownst to her though.

The boy but let out a small whimper and was now trying to settle back. They both had seen her before mostly at times when the monks go in and out the cell she was in. They would always ask if she was alright every time the monks left but nothing ever came out of it for she never spoke. The woman just came to the conclusion that if the monks were still as mad as when they came in when the left then she was still alive…for not too long they would come back again and torture her some more.

They don't exactly know why she was here, well nothing but the things the monks spout out of their mouths, of how she was a pagan and that she was to be sacrificed so that her soul can be saved. And since she would not give in and redeem myself, they would sure be coming back in an hour or two, to resume their duties in "freeing" her soul. She was the only one that the constantly and blatantly punished. They even said that she should be thankful for their favor. She was sure she can so easily go on without it though.

She heard the door open and light foot steps had descended the stairs. She knew that it was Fulcina, Marius' wife; she introduced herself once, though outside her cell door. She usually sneaks in when the monks are out to provide the boy and the woman some nourishment. She was thankful that someone at least cared for them. Unfortunately for her though, for the monks had favored her so much that they always locked the heavy metal door before they leave and with them was the key. Her stomach let out a growl in the thought of food being only a few steps away but never really being in her grasp.

The monks never fed her…one did taunt her with water once and she was so thirsty that she forgot about the pain and curled her legs around the mans neck and arm while she was suspended and drank from the bag in his outstretched arm while slowly cutting off the mans air supply… the others found him sprawled on the floor which of course brought another bout of pain.

Fulcina started walking towards the door, she heard her let out a frustrated sigh. Knowing there was nothing she could do to help.

"Lady…" Fulcina called out softly…trying to coax something, anything to ensure she was alive. "I know I've said it before but I will try to do what I can to provide you with nourishment…Please don hang on." With that she went back to the mansion before the monks get back.

Time now was foreign to her as with the others she was sure. It passes longer at times, now however it seemed to arrive in a dash. The monks were back. Some started chanting outside of the cell in front of their makeshift altar. She could vaguely remember what it looked like. She picked up the other monk's footstep as he came towards her cell. The lock's clicking seemed to resonate in her ears. She let her lids drop and tried to breathe evenly as she could with her aching ribs. She could feel the monk move around. He was lighting the torches on the wall. She could feel the heat of it touch her skin and for an instant it felt pleasant, until of course the monk yanked her chains that where bolted to the wall, jarring her body around. She opened her heavy eyes, letting him know she was awake. The pain she was trying to ignore by focusing on being lost in her thoughts and memories came back with retaliation. She stared blankly at him , his lips were moving, making words she was sure, but she did not acknowledging it. She always tuned them out whenever they were yammering.

He stopped when he noticed that her blatant dismissal. He went to the table where their instruments lie, pick up a whip and circled her. She felt the first hit and closed her eyes. He pulled back and whipped it again, making marks on her marred back from previous assaults. The pain numbing as the it continued, knowing this were to happened though, the monk threw alcohol on her wounded back and it took all of her to keep from crying out but it did not stop her body from shuddering from the pain.

Her senses starting to get clouded, she knew if her eyes were open they would fill with dark spots till it overtakes everything and loll her to unconsciousness. She was half awake from the pain. She didn't hear him back out and start to reel in the chains pulling the tightly, almost stretching her as her feet was also in chains that were bolted to the floor. She felt the pull on her shoulder making her open her eyes. It was excruciating that a moan slipped from her lips. The monk continued his ministrations, both of them unbeknownst to them event taking place outside the dungeon.

The knights walked their horses towards the gate, noting that all the servants, the villagers, the common people, were housed in dilapidated huts _out_side the wall, while the main house, Marius' mansion, was safely secured _in_side, with plenty of Roman guards to defend and protect it. People who had been working in the fields saw them and came running. A murmur, half of fear and half of curiosity, ran through the villagers.

"Who goes there?" One of the armed guards, who had been patrolling the walls, called out.

"I am Arthur Castus." Arthur replied, "Commander of the Sarmatian Knights sent by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate."

One of the guards disappeared to do Arthur's bidding. As they waited, the contrast between the lives of the Romans and the peasants who toiled the land for meager repayment was becoming even more obvious. The villagers were little more than walking skeletons on ragged clothing that barely protected them from the cold. Many of them walk with bowed shoulders and stooped heads, as if to bare the fact that the weight of their suffering was too much for them to bear.

The gates opened and an older-looking man, who was noticeably very well taken care of and dressed in typical Roman attire, made an appearance. It was obvious that the man thought of himself as a very important and decent sort of man, and he looked delighted in playing host to such important visitors.

"It is a wonder you have come. Good Jesus! Arthur and his Knights." He reached out towards Galahad's horse, to give the animal a welcoming slap, but the horse shied, sensing the vileness in the man. Galahad, who didn't want the Roman anywhere near his mount, let alone touching her, shot Marius a warning glare, which Marius either choose to ignore completely or was totally unaware of. "You have fought the Woads, vile creatures." He said while shaking his head in disgust.

"Our orders are to evacuate you immediately." Arthur being in no mood for idle chatter.

However the news seemed to dampen Marius' jovial mood. He looked at Arthur, completely shocked making him stumble his words. "But th-that's impossible."

Arthur ignored Marius and looked up at the ramparts. "Which is Alecto?"

Up above them, a young boy had appeared, alongside a middle-aged woman. Both were dressed in the fashion of Roman nobles. Their presence were different though, more humble and nobler than Marius'. The boy, who looked to be about thirteen summers ( AN: Not that acquainted yet with the age thing…sorry….) answered Arthur's question, "I am Alecto."

"Alecto is my son." Marius interjected, trying to play the role of a concerned father, "And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the pope of Rome."

"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons." said Lancelot, sarcastically.

"They're invading from the north." said Arthur.

This seemed to catch Marius off guard for a moment but than he quickly regained his composure… With pride he announced "Then Rome will send an army."

"They have. Us." was Arthur's short answer. "We leave as soon as you're packed."

Marius' earlier warm welcome had cooled considerably by this time. "I refuse to leave." He said, coldly, his tone becoming dangerous.

Marius was one used to having his will obeyed; on his estate, his word was law, and those who disobeyed it could meet with a swift and harsh punishment. However, even Marius was smart enough to not try and enforce that philosophy on a man as important as Arthur. So, he decided to take out his anger on those who ARE under his command.

Marius turned his attention to look around at the villagers who standing around them, still gazing up at Arthur. "Get back to work." He barked.

Taking their cue from the Marius, the other mercenaries began hustling the villagers away, pushing and pulling them. The knights were left to look in horror. They had not witnessed such harsh treatment before. These people seemed to be little better than slaves. By this time, both Alecto and the older woman had descended from the ramparts and were now watching the proceedings.

Arthur buried his mounting disgust and smoldering fury at the ill treatment. Dismounting, he came forward until he was nose to nose to Marius, or since he had the obvious advantages of both size and strength over the Roman lord, Arthur was more towering over Marius than approaching him as an equal. Marius, despite his bravado backed off a few steps, properly intimidated by Arthur's presence.

When Arthur spoke, his tone was deceptively calm, but the danger lingered in it. "If I fail to bring you and your son back, my knights can never leave this land, so you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself." He paused, and than delivered a mocking bow, "My Lord."

Dismissing Marius without so much as waiting for a reply, he turned to the woman who was standing slightly behind Marius, who was obviously his wife. "Lady, my knights are hungry."

The woman cast a glance at her husband, seeking unspoken his permission to proceed. Marius knowing that it was useless to argue any farther with Arthur, commanded her to go. His voice was peevish clearly not happy to be giving up so easily. He turned around and went back to the mansion.

Arthur looked around at the villagers who had begun to crowd around. He noted how malnourished and pitiful they all looked, especially considering how much excess weight Marius had. As Arthur looked around, he spotted an elderly, bony, man chained by his wrists to a pole on the edge of the row of hovels. He scowled turning to the villager who was closest to him.

"Who is he? Why is he there?" Arthur asked, motioning to the chained man.

The villager hesitated and glanced around fearfully, swallowing before replying,

"He's our village elder. He wasn't going along with everything that Master Marius wanted."

Arthur's scowl only deepened and he reached for his sword that was fastened next to his horse.

"Arthur!" Lancelot cautioned, but Arthur ignored his friend and pulled out his sword. He stormed over to where the old man was chained and brought his arm back. Ignoring the stares and murmurings of the villagers, Arthur swung his sword, breaking the chains that held the man up.

"Help this man!" Arthur shouted at the villagers, who all looked at each other, hesitant. "Help him!"

A few village women came forward to help and Arthur turned to the crowd.

"Now hear me." His voice carried, even though he spoke rather quietly. "A vast and terrible army is coming this way. They will show no mercy, spare no one. Those who are able should gather your things and begin to move south to Hadrian's Wall. Those unable, shall come with us." He turned to the man whom he had spoken to before, "You, what's your name?"

"Ganis, sir." The man replied.

"Ganis, get these people ready."

Ganis nodded and started to help the other villagers as Arthur went on his way, back to the horses. Barely fifteen minutes later, a row of mostly packed wagons were lined up on the road leading out of the estate. Tristan rode in from scouting and stopped his horse next to Arthur's.

"They have flanked us to the east." He reported, motioning with his hand in the respective directions, "They are coming from the south, trying to cut off our escape." He looked straight at Arthur, "They will be here before nightfall."

Arthur's jaw clenched, "How many?"

"An entire army."

"And the only way is to the south?" Arthur questioned.

The Scout shook his head, "East. There is a trail heading east across the mountains. It means we have to cross behind Saxon lines, but that is the one we should take." The Scout fell into his usually silence, waiting to hear Arthur's reply.

Drums suddenly sounded in the distance, echoing through the mountains. The villagers, Roman soldiers and the Knights all looked around nervously.

"Arthur." Lancelot spoke up, "We're never going to make it with all these people."

But Arthur wasn't listening. He and Tristan were both paying complete attention to the proceedings of two very bedraggled looking men who were being ordered by a pair of soldiers to block of an entrance to something. Arthur's scowl returned and he unsheathed his sword, dismounting from his horse. He marched straight for the soldiers, the Knights following to push them out of the way.

"What is this?" Arthur demanded of one of the men.

"You cannot go in there!" The man replied instantly, "It is forbidden!"

Arthur forced him to move with the point of his sword, while Dagonet and Bors used their horses to keep a protesting Marius at bay. Arthur inspected the walled off entrance, looking it over carefully.

"Arthur, we have no time." Lancelot spoke up.

"Do you not hear the drums?" Galahad added.

Arthur glared at the blocked entrance and turned to Dagonet. Dagonet nodded once and dismounted pulling out his axe. He walked up to the blockade of stones and took his axe to it. Within moments, a wooden door was visible and Dagonet kicked it.

"Key?" Arthur asked one of the guards.

"It's locked." The guard replied, swallowing, "From the inside."

Arthur frowned and looked back just as Dagonet broke through the door. Dagonet took a torch, Arthur took another and they descended into the darkness with Tristan and Lancelot following.

Arthur led Lancelot, Dagonet and Tristan down underground, immediately covering his nose. The smell was horrible. He looked around and was disgusted to see torture devices and the sad remains of people chained to the walls. He could hear someone chanting, intoning a prayer of some sort in Latin and then he saw a man walking towards him. The man was dressed in rags, his dark, graying hair was to his shoulders and was matted horribly. He glared at Arthur and the other Knights with an insane light in his eyes.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" the monk demanded.

Arthur merely pushed past the man and looked around, shocked at what he was seeing. Dead and decaying bodies lay in holes and cages and hung from chains. Lancelot looked to Arthur, who in turn looked around at everyone else.

"See if any are still alive," he commanded them and they all began a search.

Tristan went on along the corridor, and into a small pathway. Dagonet began lifting grates off of holes and Lancelot started cutting through chains, causing other grates to fall so he could see into other places.

"How dare you set foot in this holy place?" the man demanded, grabbing Lancelot's arm.

Without blinking, Lancelot pulled out his sword and ran the man through, letting him fall to the ground. Arthur looked around the room. Nothing. No one was alive here.

"Arthur." Tristan's quiet voice called from the adjacent room.

Arthur responded to the summons immediately and stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the pathway. Tristan was standing in front of the steel door, his ears place on its surface, trying to find a sign of life within it. Silence was all that welcomed them. They searched the walls for a key but they didn't find any. Tristan just looked at Arthur blankly before shrugging. Arthur let out a sigh and turned back, the scout on his heels.

"By the gods." Lancelot whispered "Arthur, there's more."

Dagonet walked into the room and went straight to a small cell. He knelt and looked inside. A boy was shivering in the far corner. The healer stood and smashed the lock with his axe. He looked into the cell and offered his hand to the boy, who took it hesitantly. Dagonet pulled the boy out and cradled him in his strong arms.

"You'll be alright now, lad." Dagonet assured the boy.

The boy merely looked at him and then his surroundings.

Arthur looked into another cell. Guinevere stared back at him through bleary, pain-filled eyes. He stood and smashed the chain, opening up the woman's cell and then helped her out, picking her up in his arms.

After doing a check around the room for any other survivors, Lancelot was leading the small procession back outside. When the boy in Dagonet's arms started to become agitated and was squirming. "What is it, boy?" hoping to know what's got the child upset.

" Lady….Lady!…No!…Let me Go!....Lady…Lady….!"The boy started calling out, shouting throwing his arms and legs to get away from Dagonet's grasp. When Dagonet's hold faltered, the boy took off…

" Lucan!" the woman cried out her voice hoarse from thirst. Tristan and Dagonet sprinted for the boy. When they caught up with him, the boy was crying and slamming his good arm on the steel door.

"Lady! Please….." he looked at the knights and begged "Please, Please…She's in there, we can't leave her…" Dagonet and Tristan shared a look, both unsure if the person on the other side of the door was even alive. Tristan went towards the door while Dagonet took the boy in his arms whispering sweet nothings to calm him. Arthur and the rest where there now too.

"What is going on?" Arthur asked befuddled by the scene. The woman in his arms turned to answer their questions.

"It's her cell. A monk is in there as well. The others have the keys, they never part with it." Hearing this Lancelot went back to search the monks for the keys.

"Who's cell and what is going on in there? Dagonet voiced out when a sound of something of glass breaking came from the inside of the cell. Before the woad could answer Lancelot returned with the key in his hand. He could not believe what he was seeing and could not help but voice out his opinion. "Is this the workings of your God, Arthur"

Arthur merely ignored him. Lancelot threw the key to Tristan's extended hand. Tristan went to open the steel door, with Lancelot on his back , a hand near the hilt of his sword. The lock clicked and it strained and groaned as they pushed it open. The monk who had his back towards them, turned around in shock.

"What is the meaning of this? Get Out! You are not allowed here! Your-" His head rolling off his shoulders before he could even finish. Tristan's sword now dripping with the monk's blood.

" Lady!" Lucan shouted as soon as he caught wind of the figure. All of the knights directed their eyes to the woman hanging on the chains.

"Who is she?" It was now Lancelot who voiced the question.

The woad looked up with tears in her eyes, looking at the battered and bloodied woman before her. Her voice still hoarse but now laced with tears...

"A ghost"

AN : Hoped it was intriguing enough for you to review just click on that clicky thing….that one right there with the letters and all that…I know you see it so….come on ….;p


	2. Chapter 2

AN: You know the drill…read and run…sorry, old habits die hard…I meant read and review…pls….enjoy…;p

Disclaimer: I own NADA…:

Chapter II

-

Truly, it is not as pretty as flower.  
Nor as attractive as a summers evening.  
Yet what holds us to bear such indignity we've seen?  
Only a cold heart in a chest, so softly breathing.

-

" _A Ghost"_

All the knight's eyes now directed on the woad. Lancelot thought that maybe the woad had lost her mind. How can this girl be a ghost, dead perhaps a better word. Yes, dead is the word that could describe that state she was in.

"Tristan…" Arthur called out and Tristan went toward the girl to check if she was even alive. Looking at her now, he knew these wounds were fresh and most definitely painful, they covered the others that were not even old enough to heal, her body caked in blood and adorned with bruises. Surely this girl was dead. He stood before her, drawing his face near her, his finger bringing her face up, he was surprises to find silver orbs penetrating his dark ones. She was alive. He drew back and tilted his head in confusion. She was just looking at him, her face vacant.

"She's alive" Tristan heard them let out a breath, when he announced this news.

"Very well, We need to take her, she needs tending to." Dagonet said to which Arthur nodded his consent.

Tristan and Lancelot helped bring the woman down from her chains. Her eyes were now closed her breathing even. Her body giving way to exhaustion. He wrapped her with his cloak, and gently carried her and following Lancelot out the door.

Lancelot led the way out. Arthur carried the woad just behind him, Dagonet held the boy and Tristan on their heels with the woman in his arms. As they emerged from the dungeon, Arthur made an immediate demand for water and Horton, the bishop's secretary, came running up with a water sack. The woad looked up at Arthur, slightly scared, and he smiled at her.

"Don't worry," he told her as Marius' wife came running over, "You're safe now."

Tristan still had the girl in his arms as he looked on. Dagonet was already on the way to the wagon to prepare for both the boy and the unconscious woman. The boy still clinging to him though his attention was fully on to the woman in Tristan's arms.

"Stop this!" Marius suddenly shouted, "Stop what you are doing!"

Arthur stood. "What is this madness?!" he demanded.

"They are all pagans here!" Marius fumed.

"So are we." Galahad interjected.

Marius only glared at him and continued, "They refuse to do the task God has set for them. They must die as an example."

"Do you mean they refuse to be your serfs!" Arthur shouted back at him.

Marius looked at him, surprised, "You are a Roman, you understand. And you are a Christian." he turned on his wife, who was fussing over the girl in Tristan's arm, elated to find her alive. "You! You kept them alive!" he swung his hand at her face, knocking her to the ground and then suddenly found himself wrenched off his feet by the front of his tunic. He looked up into the grim face of Lancelot with his sword on Marius' neck.

"How can you claim to be a Christian?" Lancelot growled out between clenched teeth, "When you strike a woman who does more good than you ever could?"

Lancelot pushed Marius back into several soldiers who were standing nearby and pointed his sword at the man. "You even think about touching her like that again and you will find your head far away from your shoulders before we even reach the Wall."

Marius stared, shocked, "She is my wife!""Could have fooled me." Lancelot spit out, turning to his horse and mounting up, purposely not looking at Marius' wife.

Arthur got the villagers to wall the remaining 'monks' back into their dungeon and they were only too willing to oblige. Once Guinevere, Lucan and the still unconscious woman were carefully loaded into a wagon, the entire group started out. Tristan rode point, of course, while the villagers and the rest of the Knights followed behind.

Dagonet was busy tending the woman's wounds. He looked to his side where Luycan lied. He heard someone came in, and turned to find Arthur.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, motioning to Lucan.

Dagonet looked at Lucan, who was barely conscious. "He burns and his arm is broken. Brave boy."

Arthur nodded, noting Dagonet's smile, and made his way to the rear of the wagon. Dagonet turning back his attention on the unconscious woman's back. Arthur knelt next to Guinevere, taking in her dirty, weary and yet somehow wildly beautiful features. He reached out to her and she cringed away from him, eyes wide, scared.

"I will not hurt you," he whispered.

She just stared and then slowly, very slowly, extended her bandaged hand towards him, still remaining silent.

Arthur frowned slightly, gently took her hand in his and began carefully unwrapping the bandages. Once all the bandages were removed, he could see how disfigured her hand was. He ran his fingers lightly over hers and then looked into her pain-filled eyes.

"Some of your fingers are out of place," he told her, "I have to push them back."

Guinevere blinked, but remained silent.

Arthur took a deep breath and, as gently as he was able, began to push on one of her fingers. She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn't let it go.

"If I don't do this, there's a chance you may never use that hand again," he informed her.

Her jaw clenched and she sat up, looking at him defiantly.

Again, Arthur began pushing on her finger and she stifled a cry when it popped back into place. He pushed rest of her fingers back to how they were supposed to be, despite her cries, and then held her for the brief moment she allowed him to.

"They tortured me," she whispered hoarsely, looking up at him, "With machines. They'd make me tell them things that…" she paused and shuddered, "that I didn't even know to begin with."

Arthur frowned, but didn't interrupt her.

"And then," she continued, "I heard your voice in the dark. I am Guinevere. You are Arthur."

"I am." Arthur admitted, "But, what about the other girl? What happened to her?"

"They did even worse things to her, she was there before we were" Guinevere told him, looking at the unconscious woman with a sad light in her eyes, "We couldn't see what they were doing but the sounds they made, made up for it. She sacrificed herself so many times to help the boy and myself. Making ruckus when they were about to take us. She never made a sound, no matter what they did to her, no matter how long it went, She was always silent. Not a whimper or a cry."

Arthur stared at the girl for a moment before looking back at her "What is her name?"

"We do not know." Guinevere shook her head, her eyelids fluttering tiredly, "She never

answered when we asked. Lucan just took to calling her Lady.""

Arthur nodded and gently laid Guinevere on the pile of furs. "Rest, Guinevere, you're safe here."

A smile flickered across her face as she drifted off to sleep. Arthur watched her for a moment and then left the tent and mounted his horse, riding up closer to the front of the group. After a few minutes of riding alone, Lancelot came up beside him, but then left just as quickly when he caught Arthur glancing back at Guinevere. Arthur sighed and turned his horse back towards the cart which carried Guinevere and the others they'd rescued.

"My father told me great tales of you." Guinevere told him as he came riding up.

"Really?" Arthur asked, "And what did you hear?"

"Fairy tales," she said, smiling, "The kind you hear about people so brave, so selfless, that they can't be real. Arthur and his Knights. A leader both Briton and Roman. And yet, you chose your allegiance to Rome; to those who take what does not belong to them. That same Rome that took your men from their homeland."

"Listen, lady," Arthur almost glared at her, "Do not pretend you know anything about me or my men."

"How many Britons have you killed?" she asked.

"As many as have tried to kill me," he retorted, "It's the natural state of any man to want to live."

"Animals live!" she argued, "It's the natural state of any man to want to live free in their own country." She paused and then said quietly, "I belong to this country, where do you belong, Arthur?"

Arthur didn't answer her; instead he just glanced at her and asked. "How's your hand?"

Guinevere smiled. "I'll live, I promise you."

He just nodded and looked away.

After a moment of silence, she asked. "Is there nothing about my land that appeals to your heart? Your own father married a Briton. Even he must have found something to his liking."

Again Arthur didn't answer. He turned his horse and rode closer to the front, up with Lancelot. Another rather lengthy amount of time passed and soon the signs of a battle began to show. Bodies frozen from the falling snow were strewn about alongside the road. The horses shied away and Lancelot made a face.

"Saxons," Arthur told him and then kicked his horse into a gallop, Lancelot right behind him.

Arthur and the Knights lined up along the road and Arthur pointed to a grove of trees.

"We'll sleep here. Take shelter in those trees," he looked at Tristan and nodded.

"You want to go out again?" Tristan asked Hawk, who nodded her head. He gave her a boost and she flew off. The Knights all rode off to their duties and the caravan arrived in the trees within a matter of minutes. Everyone set up their own little spaces within the campsites and Dagonet was now finished tending to the woman's wounds. Hopefully the woman would wake up soon. He made a bed for Lucan next to his own.

"Are you alright, lad?" he asked the boy.

Lucan nodded. "Watch Marius" he whispered and then drifted off to sleep.

All the Knights, save Arthur and Tristan, sat around one of the two campfires that had been made, warming their hands and talking amongst themselves.

"I still don't understand why we had to waste our time to save their bloody necks!" Bors was complaining.

"They were innocents being tortured, Bors," Gawain spoke up, "They deserved to be freed."

"But they're damn Woads! All three of them!"

"Only two." Tristan's quiet voice broke the silence after Bors' outburst. "Only two are Woads."

Galahad looked up at the Scout, from where he sat on a log. "Which one's not?"

"The other girl," Tristan replied, walking into the firelight and taking a seat next to Galahad. "Guinevere and the boy are Woad, but the other girl is far from it."

"What's her name?" Lancelot asked

Tristan only shrugged.

"But she's not even awake yet," Bors interjected, "How can you know that she's not a Woad?"

The Scout looked at him. "I know."

"You forget, brother," Dagonet spoke up, looking at Bors. "Tristan reads people better than any of us." "Also her tattoos are different, they seemed like inscriptions, running from her down her spine, her forearms and legs. What it means, I do not know, but Woad , I am certain, she is not.

Bors snorted and muttered something about not wanting a killer to read anything.

"What is she if not a Woad, Tristan?" Gawain asked, curious. "She's certainly not Roman."

"Or Saxon," Galahad added.

Tristan was paying attention to the necklace in his hands.

"What's that?" Bors demanded, pointing to the carving.

Tristan didn't reply, just turned the pendant over and over in his hands.

"May I look at it, Tristan?" Dagonet asked.

Tristan nodded and tossed it to him, pulling out an apple from the depths of his clothing and cutting a large piece off with his knife.

"It's beautiful." Dagonet said and looked back at Tristan. He feels as though he has seen the symbol before, he just couldn't place it, instead of acknowledging it, he just gave back the necklace to the scout.

"Did you make this?" the healer asked, noting his silent friend's interest with it.

The Scout shook his head. "It belongs to her."

AN: Sorry if its short….needed to do some errands…be posting other chapters soon…:p


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